A Meeting With the King
by Serotiny
Summary: When the raid to Hueco Mundo to save Tier Harribel goes awry, Ishida is forced to meet the Leader of the Vandenreich and learn of his plans for Soul Society. One-shot. Diverges from Ch. 486. Slight Ishihime


_As the summary indicates, this is a divergence from somewhere around Chapter 487 and what would have happened if Ishida found himself before the Vandenreich Leader. Of course at this point in time, we know little about the Vandenreich's plans, so here are a mere fan's speculations! Enjoy!_

_P.S. I do not own the work, that's Tite Kubo._

* * *

**A Meeting With the King**

* * *

"Here he is, sir!" The white-clad guard gave a deep, stiff bow to the man on the throne. His emotionless mask and blank eyes belied the faint quivering of his boots. Sticky strings of dark brown hair clung to his face and a slight perspiration appeared on his upper lips. The gleam of the leather seemed to resonate malevolently.

"Very well, cadet. You may return to the training grounds." Came the proud, commanding voice.

About roughly fifty feet across the disturbingly empty bleached courtroom, emerged a staircase. The steep steps rose into the air suspended by what Ishida suspected, thin ropes of reiraku.

The trainee's face made no motion but his relieved air was evident. "Sir, yes sir!" He hurriedly scurried away. The large, whitewashed doors gleamed behind him and the quick clicking of his heels faded into the distance.

"Hmmm…," The man on the large, white throne pondered; his eyes following the retreating figure's back. "Make sure that that officer is assigned to Sector 783."

For a moment, Ishida thought he was being addressed and scrambled to prepare a sarcastic retort when a disembodied voice floated over his left shoulder. He flinched.

"Sector 783?" the bored voice questioned, "Isn't that the recently required Hueco Mundo territory? All the hollows there are untamed beast. There are even rumors that Vasto Lorde's roam that region. I wouldn't even send the Stern Ritter there without requesting back-up. Sending a new recruit there is basically sentencing him… to..." A foreboding stillness permeated the court room as his voice tapered off.

The following silence spoke clearly as to what the man's plans were for that hapless cadet.

"Are you a fool? Don't pretend you did not already know his fate the second he walked through those doors. Why are you speaking aloud obvious things?"

"Well, there are some here who do not have a clear understanding of your ways." That was the first time that Ishida was recognized vocally. "I thought it would be fair if he had an idea of you as a person."

The man arose from his chair. The strides he made down the steps were purposeful if not slightly blunt. Ishida was slightly astonished that the fine-haired blonde man did not even tense when he stood a few centimeters in front of his face.

"Do you not know to kneel before your king?" came the dangerous, loaded question. His eyes gleamed with a crimson, savage glow. He seemed to lean forward in anticipation and his hand morphed into hooked claws. Even the cloak billowed out behind him, increasing his massive girth and seemingly equaling the killer intent pouring off him in waves. Never before had Ishida seen someone so like... like... _a predator_.

Suddenly, a vision came to his mind; one of the leader ripping off the casual man's flesh and then _gouging_ out his throat, all the while reveling in his kill. He would gleefully have blood drip from his mouth and, once his prey was utterly desecrated, he would turn to Ishida, with his blood-lusting eyes and lunge—

Ishida gave a brief shake of the head to break up the nightmarish thoughts.

He faintly remembered Ichigo describing a blue-haired Arrancar with deadly sharp fangs who resembled a predator. After the entire fiasco that was called Aizen, Urahara-san practically insisted that he and his classmates thoroughly describe their encounter in Hueco Mundo. The shady man iterated the importance of having information on file of their alive—and even dead—enemies. Ishida had wanted to exclude Ichigo from the interview, deeming it unnecessary for him to have to remember the power he once had and its subsequent loss. After glancing at ramrod shoulders and a stony façade that carefully monitored facial expression and kept emotions in check, he let sleeping dogs lie.

At that meeting, he remembered feeling slightly disturbed but more annoyed upon hearing Ichigo's description. _Was Kurosaki scared of a hollow? Didn't he defeat _Aizen_, of all people?_

He would never sneer at the liberal use of the word predator applied to a person again. He may have never met anyone so blatantly dangerous in all of his life. If Ishida could truly believed there were creatures designed to hunt all souls (humans, Hollows, and Shingamis), this man was the epitome of it.

"Of course I know to do that, sir." Amusement lightly dusted his words. His eyes, however, appeared to grow slightly more guarded; his casual stance straightened, though that could have been a trick of the dim light. "I, however, cannot become any lower than you." His gaze politely shifted away, toward the torches on the outskirts of the room.

The leader's eye drooped to a heavy, half-lidded gaze that seemed to look too hungry. He circled his slight subject twice and, surely, the man had nerves of steel if he did not make a single movement when the leader was directly behind his back and out of his line of sight. Ishida mentally prepared himself for his vision coming true and of fountains of blood to bloom from his throat; but, to his surprise, the grizzled figure threw his head back and laughed.

"Be grateful that you continue to amuse me! I hope you know that I would have killed you a thousand times over already if it weren't for your amusing, little words." The leader briefly ran his callused fingers through the blonde locks; even with his hand posed in a position of such dominance, the slighter man did not flinch. He turned his back on his soldier. "When you have lived as long as I have, the struggle of the weakest things always amuse you." Dismissing any further conversation, he ascended back to his throne.

"Of course, sir." The blond figure evenly answered. Any sign of the trauma he just endured was just as invisibleas any hint of emotion. He also glided back to his position, somewhere out of Ishida's line of vision, vaguely to the left.

"Of course he is going to die," The man on the throne said. The conversation turned back to the previous words spoken, words that Ishida had nearly forgotten about in the events that followed. "I need those grounds more thoroughly charted and I might as well send in a newbie. If he can't survive, that's too bad. He should have had a more sturdy resolve. I hate those who openly tremble before me."

"But, maybe some exemptions are in order….? I doubt he will make the same mistakes again with the proper reprimanding."

"Amusing, amusing." To Ishida's horror, the two shared a smile; the large brunette's ruthless grin and the blonde's sleepily smile. _He is just as bad as that other man!_ The slight pity for the man instantly vanished. _They are simply toying with the lives of those people! His false caring attitude is just as disgusting as his barbaric leader._

Weren't snakes just as deadly as any other predator? They appear harmless—without any limbs, how can they strike their foe?—in comparison to other hunters but even they are dangerous. Despite the smaller stature, the hypnotic eyes could falsely lead you to your doom. Little wonder, the mouth of a snakes being so greatly feared…

_I'm pretty sure…_

The follower's hand lightly gripped his shoulder. "Come, Ishida-kun," He jumped; he had not seen him come from his previous position. "There is someone who is _dying_ to meet you."

_He could eat me whole…_

"He is not injured; therefore, he should address me appropriately." He gestured vaguely at Ishida, a slightly annoyed tone tingeing his words.

The blonde man gave a silent nod and unsheathed a dagger from his side. Determinedly, he leaned closer to Ishida with a negligible, casual grin.

Ishida gave a slight cringe and tried to squirm away from the too close man. He could find no traction on the slick floor.

"Now, now, Ishida-kun, don't be frightened. This," he indicated the sword in hand, "is merely for the sake of my own comfort. Quincys don't use swords." He pleasantly presented the sword to him, as if he wanted to prove to Ishida he meant no harm—Ishida tried to ignore how unerringly close the blade was to his throat. A disapproving sound came from the back of the other's throat. "I hope you wouldn't presume me to cut you down where you stand—err… sit." He hastily corrected.

Before his eyes could follow, the dagger that was pointed to him made a quick slashing motion and the ropes that bound him fell silently to the floor. Ishida repressed the urge to immediately back away, to even flinch. The blonde again patted his shoulder with a paternal air, pleased with his attempt at a stoic face and posture.

With a bit of irony, he said: "After all, we are civilized men." Briefly, his eyes narrowed and he stared at Ishida with calculating eyes. With an agile twist, he suddenly spun on heel and intoned: "He is ready, Your Majesty."

"Finally. You may leave us."

He studied the burly man with an indifferent air. "As you command, sir."

Predator or not, Ishida sorely missed the other's presence as he slid out whitewashed doors, without even a backwards glance to the people in the throne room. At least the other provided a buffer; now, the leader's sole focus was utterly on him.

"So, here before me lies the great Ishida Uryū. The alleged 'Last Quincy'. One of the Heroes of the Winter War. Here he stand—", he paused and then growled fiercely, "Get up, boy! You will show me the proper respect. I did not have my right-hand man, break your bonds for you to continue to sit." The Quincy shakily got to his feet. "That is better. You," with a gesture as powerful and as natural as a lightning strike, he pointed at Ishida, "are the first War Potential to come stumbling into my grasp. Obviously, fools in the Seireitei are still in charge or else they would have protected you better."

"Come closer to the steps, fellow Quincy."

Ishida would have liked nothing better to have ignored his words or at least give a biting retort. His presence, though, could not be ignored and he felt compelled to obey his words. He took a step closer.

"Kneel before my throne," the figure on the throne commanded, indicating the bottom of the steps, "before my might. Acknowledge Your Majesty, the Conqueror of Hueco Mundo, the Great King of the Quincys."

"What?" The blue-eyed Quincy struggled to give a scathing insult. "Who the hell gave you the right to give nicknames? I do not remember my grandfather mention anything of you. You are nothing. You are not a real Quincy. And, you most certainly no King of mine." Regardless of his words, he took another unsteady step towards his adversary.

"Your grandfather, Ishida Sōken, was a fool. He believed that accords could be made with the Shinigami. That we could be a sort of forerunners that headed off the hollow attacks on Earth until the Shinigami came to save us. A fool! Nothing could reconcile the ideals between the Shinigami and the Quincy. We are too different and hate one another too inherently. The only possible outcome between a meeting of the two races would be death. There is no possibility for co-existence. Eventually, one will exterminate the other."

"That's not true," he softly retorted. Though there might have once been a time that he agreed, according to all the Shinigami he had befriended, contradicted his statement.

"Speak louder, insect."

"That's not true. I-I've made friends with Shinigami! Loud and brash." _Crimson hair brushing against black lines, permanently embedded into the _skin. "Silent and noble." _A white sword swirls at night, dancing an intricate pattern illuminated by a lunar backdrop._ "And crazy and bloodthirsty! I have met all different kinds. You cannot just categorize them into one people. When you do that, you just see them as a nameless people who are without hopes and aspirations."

"You believe they see us differently? You honestly believe that they see us as individuals?" Crimsons eyes furiously and hungrily studied Ishida. Dread began to settle in the bottom of his stomach and made it feel as if a boulder was placed precariously on his gut. There was a chance, a terribly large chance, that he would not make it out of this encounter alive.

"Well—" The leader did not give him a chance to talk.

"Did you know that we have existed since the dawn of time? We always have and we always will."

"But… there were no more Quincys after the massacre—" Facts that his grandfather taught him flitted across the edge of his mind. He hadn't thought of the decimation since the confrontation between Kurosaki and himself.

"Lies." He leaned forward on his seat, long, callused fingers gripped the uniform and the black cloak. "Lies that the Seireitei would have you believe."

"Well, of course you would say they are lying. It benefits you. I mean, I presume anyway it benefits you. It probably validates whatever you're doing in your mind."

The leader appeared to take what he said into consideration; his hands carefully rubbed his beard in contemplation. He gave a deep sigh, one that resonated throughout the empty court room.

"No matter, we will have what we deserve and you will help us, whether you desire to or not. All along, you have claimed that I am not a 'true' Quincy and that I am not a 'real' Quincy. Actually, how are you sure that you are? In some ways, you are right. By definition, Quincys are humans who have gained spiritual powers that completely and utterly destroy souls. We are not Quincys because we are not human.

"We, in fact, are dead souls." He raised a hand, as if to stop the flow of subsequent questions after his brisk statement.

"Before the supposed Quincy massacre of two hundred years ago, roughly a millennium ago, a fascinating phenomenon occurred that had never happened. A soul in Soul Society remembered _everything_ in his human life."

"That's not that spectacular. When we were in a Rukongai district, we met a boy who remembered his past life and recognized—" Ishida hastily caught himself off. _No use giving the enemy more information than he needs._

The grizzled man looked at him with interest and waited for him to continue his statement. When no other words were forthcoming, he waved the notion away. "I never said that souls in parakeets on Earth forget when they come to Soul Society. Even if that were true and he did remember before he died, no one ever remembers every single aspect of their human life. The individual I am referring to remembered everything.

"Most important of all, this individual was a Quincy. Before this person died, the Gotei 13 was extremely dependent on the absence of memories in the Quincys. They would never want to fight a continuous battle on two fronts against a determined people such as us. To have a person that retained Quincy memories and Quincy hatred was deemed…bothersome by the busybodies known as the Central 46."

At Ishida's bunched together eyebrows, he added, "They are the judicial branch that hands down orders.

"Fortunately, on the day of reconciliation when that person, that innocent soul was going to be struck down by the Sōkyoku for simply remembering, a Shinigami had mercy and saved him." Crimson eyes were no longer focusing on the Quincy. Instead, they seemed to be looking inward, ages and ages ago. The man emotionlessly said, "The Shinigami spirited him far from the Gotei 13's eyes and to a nondescript Rukongai district. After an indeterminable amount of time, I believe about four hundred years before the massacre, the Seireitei was attacked by dead Quincy. Apparently, the child that was saved from an untimely death had gathered around him an army of infuriated Quincys with restored memories."

"I thought you said memories of earlier days were impossible." He grasped at the inconsistency in his story

"They were; they are." The man dreamily continued on, definitely ignoring Ishida's presence. "However, the kind Shinigami taught the child a forbidden art that, under certain circumstances, could restore memories. Anyways, this group of fortified and vengeful people struck out against the Gotei 13 and declared them their eternal enemies…" He paused, his head leaned forward and the strings of dark hair covered his red eyes. Hands clutched at one another absentmindedly.

"What happened?" He asked quietly.

"History is, of course, written by the victors." He brusquely got to feet and wiped off and invisible stain from his knees. "The uprising was brutally clamped down. Orders were given that every Quincy soul be captured alive and shot with their own arrows. This would prevent them from returning to the cycle of life and, they hoped, would end the inexplicable return of memory. This war was fought for about seventy years.

'Finally, those morons realized that it was a forbidden kidō art that caused all… well, most of there problem in the spiritual world. As long as a single Quincy lived, he or she could return the memories of thousands upon thousands of Quincys and, in turn, teach them the forbidden Shinigami technique so that they too could return the memories of thousands upon thousands… You get my point."

Ishida made no sign of acknowledgement.

"It was at the end of the seventieth year, with no end in sight that the Central 46 handed down an earth-shattering command: use kidō #147.

"This particular enchantment spelled out disaster to those who rebelled against Seireitei's heavy-handed grip. The mechanics are too intricate to easily explain, but I can tell you that it affected everyone across the spiritual dimension. At the cost of the Soutaichou and three other Taichous' lives, an inexplicable kidō permeated Soul Society.

"This piece of work sought out any Quincy's soul and disabled the fundamental ability to leave any spiritual plane, even with replacement bodies; basically, we were banished from the World of the Living. A brilliant tactic on their side for we had planned to meet up with the Quincys on Earth and, together, storm the Seireitei."

"If that would have come to pass, you would have won." He could not possibly comprehend the thought of a world were Quincy were numerous and in charge. _A world where Grandfather was still alive..._

"Indeed, we would have been able to have killed with indiscretion, they could kill us as spirits; we would return to earth as Quincys, or they could kill us as humans, we would become spirits and have our memories restored. It would have been a win-win situation, even with the much smaller fighting force we had. But that's neither here nor there.

"Secondly, kidō #147 caused one more effect—it made us forget that forbidden recalling spell. In fact, it utterly erased that very kidō, even its number.

"That side effect wasn't as worrisome as the first one. You see, towards the end, we decided that, in order to change the ancient, decrepit laws of the Seireitei, we needed to confront the King himself. We needed to see in person the Soul Society's King. There are only two keys to get to his dimension. One is through the known Ōken, the one that the Soutaichou alone knows its whereabouts. The second way is to create a key with 100,000 souls.

"We originally wanted to go to Earth." He paced back and forth and crossed his arms behind his back.

"To murder 100,000 people?" Ishida sneered.

"Contrary to popular opinion," the man paused in his pacing and gave the Quincy a slight smirk, "Quincys exist to protect humans too. At the time, we actually believed the Soutaichou had hidden the key in the World of the Living and had wanted to retrieve it. Kidō # 147 prevented us from exploring that possibility or even communicating to our comrades our ideas…

"However, the Central 46 who gave the horrible command forgot one thing. Kidō is meant to only affect _dead_ souls. You see, _living_ Quincy souls can go to the Soul Society and the World of the Living as many times as they please. Even with all my power, I cannot." With renewed interest, the man sized up Ishida. Slowly, he mad his way, once again, down the steps.

"And so, you need me—"

"Not exactly you," he cut in. "I would rather enter the World of the Living on my own, by myself. I trust no one else with the task of finding the key."

All the heat disappeared from his face, from his body and only a cold, numbing sensation remained. Almost like a dream, he said in a detached voice, "So you want me to give up my body." It was not a question.

"More like suppressing your spirit and letting me, temporarily, inhabit your body. Remember, the soul and the body can only be separated for so long before the connection between the two disappears. I don't need a dead body; I need a living soul."

He mechanically nodded his head.

The leader had reached the bottom of the steps.

"And then, with your body, the Quincy will be able to rise again and take back that which was taken from us all those hundreds years ago. We will rectify a wrong that has been done to us since the beginning of time! Ishida, join me." A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, almost causing his knees to buckle. "What the Shinigami fail to realize is that we are also sentient beings. They believe that we will roll over and die because it is their whims that we do so!"

Passion brazened his voice, causing it to grow significantly louder and to fill the room. "We are nurtured by the same materials, have the same emotions—hopes and aspirations—as you put it. The moon and sun, both can wax eloquently about its beauty. The same weapons injure us, swords and bows. All agree that the problem of hollows needs to be taken care.

"If we are near others, can we not help but form bonds? If you show us enemy, can we not help but strike out at them? And," he looked beyond Ishida's cobalt eyes, beyond the whitewashed doors, beyond the stars of Hueco Mundo, and even beyond time itself, "if someone massacres our people, can we not help but to desire our revenge?"

Coal black bangs hid his eyes. His head was starting to hurt tremendously but he managed to breathe, "What happened to the kind-hearted Shinigami?"

"That fool? That traitor?" His voice huffed with contempt and his hand fell from Ishida's shoulder. "That is the most ironic of it all. The one who rescued that innocent Quincy and taught him the forbidden kidō? The one who started the whole incident, nearly breaking the Gotei 13? Why, he sits on the seat of power in Soul Society as we speak. The Gotei 13 are fools, through and through."

A most vicious, ferocious smile rose to his face. "I believe I will enjoy breaking him, most of all."

_Wrong, incorrect, misguided, false…those are all terms I want to say…. But, if I were in his same position wouldn't I be fighting for those same ideals_?

"One last question." Ishida lifted his head; cerulean eyes stared straight into the deep red, malevolent eyes. "How old are you?"

He leaned back and laughed. Or perhaps he howled, it was hard to discern the difference between the two with the leader's voice. "That might be the most brilliant thing you've asked all evening. It's hard to keep track, but I am about one millennia old."

Silence. "I see."

_What should I do? His story sounds real… And perhaps he really is a Quincy. Shouldn't I side with my own kind? _The memory of his friends grew fainter while the thoughts of helping his kinsmen grew. _The bonds of friendship go only so far… Maybe I should surrender; it's not like they are going to let me escape. I'll—_

"_I just want to be able to save a mountain-load of people."_

_No. I can't give up. I'll never be able to look Kurosaki in the face if I just give in._ Ishida mentally began calculating the escape routes possible for him. He was not going down without a fight. He leaned back on his heels and prepared to use Hirenkyaku. "I get what you're saying but, I still cannot condone what—"

"Whether you agree or not is meaningless to me." He sounded disappointed in Ishida's choice. "If you cannot follow orders, you will be made to obey them. Guards, come in." The doors were hastily open and the blonde haired man casually strolled in. He was alone.

"Your orders, Your Majesty?" he bowed slightly to the authoritative figure.

"Take him to the chambers and prepare him." The leader vaguely pointed in Ishida's direction, boredom already coloring his tone. /he turned his back on his subordinate. "I want everything to ready in the hour. Or," he tossed a sinister smile at the slighter man, "it's your head."

"Of course sir." He turned to Ishida and beckoned him with a tilt of his head. "Come along, Ishida-kun." The snake waited for the Quincy to walk in front of him; he meandered behind him. The doors slowly shut behind him.

The leader continued to look at the door, long after it was closed. Then he turned his eyes to his own throne. "Farewell, Last of the Living Quincy."

* * *

The walk to the room was dead silent. The moment the doors closed, Ishida had tried to sprint away only for fingers to snag his collar and brutally slam him against the tiled floors.

"That's a big no-no, Ishida-kun." The man leaned over his frame with a grin, accurately blocking everything else from view. "You see, if you were to escape it would be _fwoop!_" He made a cutting motion across his neck. "Off with my head. Literally, of course."

He snapped to a couple of the guards lining the hallway. "You and you. Assist him to the room." The people he indicated hastened to attention and grabbed him under his arm and dragged him to his feet. They did not even give him time to scramble to his feet; instead, opting to pull him inexorably onward.

As they moved forward, the man continued to chat, as if nothing had happened. "You' absolutely love the decorum of your chambers. Everything is pretty much aesthetically pleasing. Of course you won't be conscious for long… Don't give me that look!" He asked reproachfully after Ishida leveled an annoyed glare at him. "I can almost promise you that you will receive full control of your facilities after he is do—"

"Do any of you guys have names?"

"Hmm?" The man seemed slightly surprised at Ishida's abrupt question.

"I noticed that he never calls you by your names, not even you, his right-hand man. You also just called out to the guard and two came. Do you guys not have names?"

"Ishida-kun is very observant. No one but our leader has a name and even he doesn't give that away freely. We are just stepping stones in his stride for greatness, after all. Besides, no one gives names to unimportant objects."

Ishida could not help but feel a bit of pity for these nameless people who obviously lived in abject terror of their leader. He lowered his head.

As they were moving, guards all along the wall began to leave their posts and follow them. Eventually, a long and silent stream of men in white uniforms ghosted after them. No sound echoed across the hall, despite the large group of people.

Finally, they arrived at their destination. It was a large, cavernous room that challenged the magnitude of the throne room of the leader's. It should have been completely white but there were thousands and thousands of blue spots that splattered the room and the obscure ceiling.

Upon a closer glance, the spots were discovered to be tiny Quincy crosses. At his questioning gaze, the other man lovingly elucidated, "Those all represent the Quincys who have been murdered in all our struggles in the past thousand years. No one was left forgotten." The insignias were only about an inch large and they were _all over_ the wall, making the room to appear to be completely blue.

In the middle of the room was a large dark-metal arch that twisted in dizzyingly loops. From the very peak of the arch descended two long chains that fell short a few feet from touching the ground. The other man led him to those simple pieces.

Ishida dazedly allowed the other the handcuff both of his arms, as he did so, the taciturn people who were following them quietly surrounded the structure in an unexpressive circle. They were spectators; they were merely witnesses to the birth of a new era.

"Ishida," The blonde man said, after approving of the strength of the chains, "A few words?"

Though Ishida was silent, the man carried on regardless. "Our Leader has been incredibly kind to you. I doubt you would know this, but, if anyone else had asked those same questions, he would have killed them without a second thought. I believe he truly likes you." That last statement was a lie. The grizzled leader could careless about anyone; he just needed another stepping stone. Both of them knew that.

"In time, hopefully, you will come to see him as a benevolent ruler. He would never offer anyone a chance to see into his mind. And this," he gestured towards the odd contraption, "will not even hurt you. You will just feel a sense of discomfort for a moment. Consider that a kindness, a mercy you will receive here." He offered a tentative, sleepy smile.

_A little pain at the price of losing my body? And yet I'll still be aware of my actions? That is not kindness._

_More like the cruelest mercy._

"I have high expectations for you, Ishida-kun." He stepped back and joined the seamless circle. Then, the leader entered the room.

He strode in with confidence and his held high, very aware that every eye was riveted on his form. The clicking of his boots was the only sound that echoed in the room; everyone else was breathless. He ignored them and walked towards Ishida, seeing him, but also seeing past him. He took his place in front of Ishida and gave a brief nod towards his right-hand man, ordering it to begin. The leader closed his eyes and, again, placed a hand on his shoulders. Ishida almost lashed out with his legs to kick him in the shin, but at that precise moment he let out a great deal reiatsu. The living Quincy was paralyzed.

_Could it have been merely a few months ago when I did not are if I lived or died? life was not worth living if I did not have power. Now…_

_I want to laugh at Rukia's attempts at drawings. And tell her thank you for… for…including Inoue-san in her training. _

_I want to confide with Sado-kun and to rest easy in his presence in the background. I never did tell him I appreciated his assistance in Soul Society …_

_I want to argue with Kurosaki and his stupid scowl. I want to prove that Quincys are superior to Shinigami in every aspect. Maybe, I could have finally proven to him that the whole world does not need his stupid protection and most people can stand on their own two legs…_

_I want to see Inoue-san… _

_I want to see her tender eyes... I want to see her cheerful gestures…_

A memory came to mind, one before her kidnapping, before the Fullbringers, before the return of the Quincys.

He had been resting at his desk, with his head face down, ignoring Asano-san's antics and the pummeling he was receiving, in turn, from Kurosaki. He was dutifully ignoring the others, trying to distance himself from the gang who went to Soul Society.

Having no Quincy powers was equivalent to being worthless, actually, less than worthless. To be close enough to see, to be able to watch but to never interfere… That was his definition of hell.

Inoue. Unaware, incognizant, oblivious Inoue came skipping to his desk, ignoring the surprised stares of their classmates.

"Ishida-kun! Look at what I made!" She presented to him a light green saucer filled with some gelatinous, pink substance. "I made some chamomile tea for my lips!" Obligingly, she scooped some of it up and grabbed his hand. He blushed as she gleefully plopped a good handful of it on him.

"Uh, Inoue-san? I don't think tea is supposed to look like that…." The once-Quincy fought to not allow even an amused tone to enter his voice. The gray-eyed girl had already proved herself in Soul Society to be a tough spirit. Nonetheless, he would protect her from the very least, his insensitive laughter.

"Don't be silly! Of course, chamomile tea is the perfect chapstick!" _She mistook my words_, he thought_._ Eagerly, she shoveled some into her cream-colored hands. "One time, while I was working at the bakery, a funny man with a really large beard was drinking some. It stuck all over his beard and… Hey! You think that it helps grow out facial hair. Ohhh!" Still holding his hand, she gently pushed his hand to rub the sticky chamomile tea all around his mouth and used what was on her left hand to rub some onto her mouth. "Don't you think it'd be cool if I had a big, fluffy beard? Then, my face would never be chapped or grow cold in the winter!"

Then, she gasped. "Ishida-kun, we are going to be twins!" Soft, gray eyes were focused on him; orange hair perfectly framed her heart-shaped face. The pink matter surrounding her mouth only accentuated the scintillating smile she graced him with. He could feel his lips move to correspond to her gesture.

_I want to see Inoue-san's chamomile smile!_

"Start the machine," came the bored order.

Fire works of cardinals, tangerines, and cinnamons erupted before his eyes. So bright and brilliant, he could actually _taste _the colors. The strands of warm hues faded into darkness. And darkness became nothingness.

* * *

_While this was fun to write, I highly doubt I'll write a sequel. Hmmm… Who knows? Anyways, still review, please! Any words, whether encouragement or criticism is highly welcomed! Props to the person who recognized a part of the Leader's speech from a certain play. See ya next time!_

_Thus, I depart._


End file.
